


Twice a Placid Sunset

by delta6453



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 08:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta6453/pseuds/delta6453
Summary: It's a hot September day, Akaashi's tired, and Bokuto doesn't consider the setting appropriate.





	Twice a Placid Sunset

“…and so, they thought I wasn’t allowed to be there, but I told them, no, no I am! And then they had to let me in, because…”

The sky had become streaked with soft reds and oranges, the sun already having sunk halfway below the horizon. The dying rays continued to trickle through the leaves of the oak, drawing delicate patterns across Akaashi’s exposed arms and legs. The cicadas droned on lazily above, their last song, a futile final toil to make themselves heard before the inevitable frost of winter. A gentle wind rustled the branches over his head, bringing with it the continued squawks of the captain. 

“…I looked him in the eye, made my eyes look, ya know, threatening-like, and he was so scared he almost but ran away! But, don’t worry kids, I…”

Nearby, Bokuto rambled on about his multitude of illustrious accomplishments to several starry eyed first years. It wouldn’t be long before they realized his many shortcomings, but Akaashi had to commend the efficiency with which Bokuto awed them. Even in the paling glow, his face was as bright and expressive as ever, his stories as full of life and zeal. Still watching the group, Akaashi’s vision started to blur, his eyes to flutter shut. Akaashi didn’t mind the torridity. He didn’t mind that it was the end of September and the heat blazed on, sticky and fervent. He didn’t mind that Bokuto’s strident voice grew nearer and nearer… 

“Aghkashi!” 

Akaashi’s jolted awake, to Bokuto, who stood above him aggravatedly. He scrunched his nose up and in an evidently exaggerated fashion, began to berate the younger boy. “How many times have I told you it’s disrespectful to fall asleep in public places!? You should listen to your senpai once in a while,” his gaze flitted back towards the hopefuls that stood behind him, “because I know what I’m talking about!”

If anything could completely dispel his drowsiness, it was Bokuto’s inappropriate, and furthermore, preposterous suggestions. In the first place, Akaashi didn’t usually go to sleep in public areas, and if he did, Bokuto wasn’t falling over himself to correct that behaviour. In fact, it made more sense in reverse. Akaashi fully expected to one day find the capricious third year deeply asleep in a change room or school bathroom. He frowned, turning away from the figure that constantly disturbed both his rest and sanity. 

“Aw, don’t worry, ‘Kaashi! Sleeping’s not bad.” He plopped himself down next to Akaashi, dropping a broad hand on his shoulder. “This guy here, he must sleep ten hours a day and he’s still the best setter out there!” Akaashi peered at the boy beside him, unsure whether he should be irritated or flattered by the remark. Still, Bokuto beamed back, crinkles gathering at the corners of his eyes. The sun played itself on his face, warm hues settling in stark contrast to his searing eyes. Akaashi set himself against the tree once more. Try as he might, he couldn’t hold anything against Bokuto, a person whose passion, sincerity, spirit clearly enthralled every dreamy first year. 

“Oh! Look there, isn’t that the rest of them?!” Behind him approached the third-year volleyball members, who’d left in search of ice cream. Seemed they had returned empty handed, judging by Konoha’s deep set scowl. 

Bokuto waved his hands frantically, calling to the ragtag team. Oblivious to the fact that he’d almost broke Akaashi’s nose at least twice. “Where’s the ice cream!?”

“Sold out.” Konoha fanned himself with a pamphlet, and squinted at the horizon. “I’m going murder the ass who thought this kind of heat’s acceptable in September.” 

“Who is that, exactly?”

He stopped fanning, narrowing his eyes in Akaashi’s direction. “Don’t be pushing your luck, Akaashi. You should be glad that Captain would never let me lay a finger on you.” 

Bokuto’s arm brushed his own as he raised his hands defensively. “Of course I wouldn’t! Akaashi’s a great setter, his tosses are the best! And he’s a cool guy to top it off, you think I’d let you sneaky foxes have him?” Akaashi gaped at Bokuto. Only a complete idiot would could say that and mean it. Fortunately, he hadn’t glanced in Akaashi’s direction because not even the deepening shadows could hide the flush that’d dusted itself across his cheeks. Not that Bokuto had any particular way with words, but he had the extraordinary ability of flustering the setter. And of occasionally stunning a crowd into silence. Even Konoha, the self-proclaimed king of comebacks. 

“But! Nobody’s perfect, and ‘Kaashi needs to fix his bad habit of falling asleep everywhere. He can’t go out into society if he acts like that!” 

Sarukui put a finger thoughtfully to his head, a mischievous flash of a smile. “Why, Bokuto, didn’t this happen last year too?” 

But Akaashi thought, and came up short. Perhaps he’d have to give Sarukui credit, it’d been an amusing thought, but no, Akaashi hadn’t done it before. He was about ready to chuckle it off until Bokuto jostled at his side, eyes bright once again. Akaashi’s face fell. “Oh yeah, I remember when that happened! The practice match against Shinzen!” Akaashi remembered that event vividly, but Sarukui’s suggestion conjured in him no recollection. And while he struggled to piece together the vague forgotten fragments, Bokuto had begun to chronicle the events of that day. 

It’d happened in September, nearly a year ago. It’d been unusually hot, the azure sky above seamless save for the blistering patch of Sun. Not a calm sunset, but a sweltering midday. They’d finished a particularly brutal practice match against Shinzen, and stood about waiting for their bus to arrive. Although Akaashi had confidence in his abilities, it’d been one of his first real practice matches, and Bokuto had fallen into a dejected mode halfway through the game, something that Akaashi had then had no experience with. As the other team began to gain, piling on the points, Akaashi’s clumsy tosses to his other seniors were insufficient. The coach had finally shaken his head despondently, and sent in a third-year setter to replace Akaashi. Even then, Fukurodani had lost the final match, and remarkably so. Among the grumbles of the third years and scuffling of shoes against the hot pavement, Akaashi had stood alone off to the side of the parking lot. Mentally reviewing that final match, considering where he could have improved his own movements, how they might avoid the same outcome in an official match. Gazing down at the glistening black of the pavement, pulling again and again at his third and fourth finger, ignoring the stinging near his eyes. Reassuring himself that he could be a setter for the esteemed Fukurodani academy. That he was an appropriate counterpart for the future ace. 

“C’mon man, poor Akaashi. This was all your fault in the first place, wasn’t it?” Komi turned his disapproving gaze on Bokuto. The first years all faced towards Bokuto expectantly, who in turn paused, face caught between a smile and a grimace. 

“Alright, I messed up, I know! Keep listening though, I promise it ends well!” He abashedly continued the tale. 

A murky shadow had ambled up to him. He’d looked up timidly, awaiting to be reprimanded, or at the least, criticized for his poorly thought out combinations. Instead, the figure had beamed down. He’d just stood, and beamed, and when he’d opened his eyes, Akaashi’s own face had been reflected in an endless sea of flames. He’d always wondered what the other had seen as his own slate grey gazed dazedly into the shock of gold. His fingers had stopped, his thoughts scattered, whisked away with the wind. And though the easily excitable boy had begun to speak only a second later, to laud his perseverance, compliment his early sets, Akaashi had remained motionless. Because, even then, it wasn’t the weight of his words, or his eloquence, that had enraptured him. It was his entire being, all he was. 

His knees banged against Akaashi’s as he excitedly looked over the first years. “This next part’s the part I’ve been waiting to tell. It’s where I really shine.” A couple of the third years shook their heads, Konoha scoffed. 

At the time, he must have felt, beyond bewildered and overwhelmed, relieved. He wouldn’t be ostracized, the team would understand what had happened, and the future yet lay ahead, an endless expanse. Moreover, beside him stood the future ace he’d only set to several times before, chattering on about how the third years had to throw a bucket of cold water over his head to pull him out of his dejection. He looked down at his scuffed sneakers, all at once ashamed, drained of life. Not sure what to say, how to thank the boy beside him for his help. Bus in two, had called the coach. And then a warm hand clasped his shoulder, a translucent arm was slung across his back. A heat that rivalled the feverish summer days that left one doubled over and gasping for air. He had stared down at Akaashi, a lopsided smile curving his lips. An intensity that rivalled the cataclysmic storms that had no trouble tearing corrugated roofs from their counterparts. And he’d parted his lips, and said…

“If there’s one thing I understand, it’s volleyball. And it’s not a game you can play alone. It’s alright to make mistakes. It’s alright to lose some. There’s people behind you, they’ll catch you if you fall. And even if no one’s there, I’ll always be.” 

Word for word. Akaashi’d stared up both times. In admiration, in wonder, in…

Konoha whistled. “What movie’d you get that from, Captain? Volley Boys 3?” 

“Shut it, Konoha! Let me have my moment, you schemer!” 

In thinly veiled exasperation. “Konoha-san, please stop being belligerent.” Bokuto stifled his laughter, elbowing Akaashi in the ribs once, twice. Perhaps a show of approval. “Bokuto-san, I believe I’ve warned you multiple times that people have a personal bubble. And that my ribs are not made of stone.”

The bus had arrived, a good twenty minutes behind schedule. The boys had all piled in, overheated and peeved. Akaashi had taken a window seat near the front, and to his surprise, Bokuto had thrown himself beside him. He’d claimed the bus the best opportunity for getting to know each other, and from then had droned on about volleyball moves, TV shows he’d seen recently, probably whatever popped into his head. Akaashi had just watched, listened. Watched the stripes of light fall down his animated face. Listened to him describe his favorite foods, his family, the other second years. The bus had rocked back and forth, the engine had continued to purr softly in its underbelly, until everything had fallen out of focus, and- 

“All of a sudden, his head fell on my shoulder! He fell asleep while I was talking! Can you believe that?”

Oh no, he really had fallen asleep. What an impression that must have left. The first years had leaned back on their haunches, blinking at one another. Akaashi put his fingers to his temples. What was the morale? What was the story supposed to prove? That the setter of Fukurodani Academy was a lazy and thoughtless leech? The third years continued, ignorant of the various implications. 

“We were wondering why he’d suddenly stopped moving. Thought he might have died in his seat or something.” Konoha chuckled in mock derision.  
“And then he started to throw us dirty looks when we were talking.” Komi added solemnly.

“And to top it off, he made me erase all the pictures I took!” Yukie crooned from some far-off perch. 

He’d never thanked the boy who’d encouraged him to keep playing. To keep dreaming. The boy who didn’t have a way with words, but whose words nevertheless dripped with earnestness. 

“I was just trying to be nice, a good senpai! What would you do if your kouhai falls asleep? You lend them a shoulder, of course!!”

“Didn’t you just ruin your own narrative there? You let me sleep the first time, but not the second.”

Bokuto’s eyes widened and he sheepishly glanced back towards the horde of first years. “You were tired then, and I’m good senpai!” 

“I’m tired now too, actually. Don’t forget who made me take inventory, and inquire about the- “ 

“Alright, alright, you’re right!” He pouted, drawing his knees to his chest, grumbling about sabotage and cheating. Even so, Akaashi could feel a slight smile creeping its way onto his face. The first years continued to watch, hopeful and enthusiastic. 

He wondered if, maybe, a year ago, he’d looked up with the exact same wide- eyed admiration. The intricate patterns that now adorned both their arms wavered with the swing of the branches. Maybe he’d looked up into those bright eyes that now floated hazily above his own and felt the same way. It was the last of September, the last stretch of summer, and the world around him continued to fade, darken. Maybe he still did, even if he’d never admit it. He shuffled a bit closer, until he could feel his arm against his own and the pulse of the other seemed to reverberate within his own chest. Just maybe he still did. 

“Bokuto-san? Could you do me a favour?”

“Eh?” His scowl fell as noticed Akaashi’s languid grin. He grinned in return. “Sure, if it’s for my vice-captain!” 

“Lend me your shoulder one more time.”

Akaashi promised himself that, even if he never acknowledged everything, he’d thank him for it all one day.

**Author's Note:**

> Tried a slightly non-linear story. Oh yeah, and I love summer so of course some passages are descriptive. Apologize for some bits that could have definitely been trimmed. But, on the other hand, if there's anything I like more than subtlety, it's sensory stimulation :)
> 
> As always, delta6453.tumblr.com
> 
> Love you all! Hope you enjoyed <3


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